Scythe of a Slayer
by finelley
Summary: Final installment to the Three Sisters of Doom Series. The Creation of Old will stop this war...or the Council will end it for everyone.
1. The Creation

The Scythe of a Slayer

Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl. Although this is pretty much my own thing by now, Arty, Butler, Holly, Juliet, and the rest of the gang are all there. Therefore…what Eion Colfer does not claim, I do! Ha ha! I laugh at you! Ha!

Info: Fourth and final installation to the Sisters of Doom Series. Finally! Feel free to read and review, or just read. Doesn't matter to me, honestly (although reviews are nice). Thank you for your time!

Setting: hm…

Chapter 1: The Creation

**T**he road to saving the world is one not many people travel down eagerly. When I was first created, I had no intention of taking such an aggravatingly long time down this topsy-turvy trail, but it is no longer in my hands to decide that fate. I sometimes wonder if it ever was in my hands…

No doubt you wonder who I am. I have introduced myself to the world in this generation many times over and will at least once more. But I cannot dive into that now, for I have my callings. Perhaps a story of my past, but not now. My meeting calls.

**D**imly lit halls lightly echoed the voices that argued inside them. A score of figures were gathered about a marble table, each seated in a chair fit for a king. They all dressed alike in infinitely boring, coarse, gray robes that hung from them and gave to them no shape whatsoever. The hoods were down, but it mattered not as the lights were too little to see faces by.

A heated argument spewed forth from four of the fifteen figures that were seated. Those involved had leaned forward in their seats, elbows propped upon the stone table, jaws flapping incessantly as they attempted to make their points.

"It won't matter now. We're too late. I say we deploy our last ditch effort and hope for the best," spoke the deep, reasonable voice of a man just into his prime.

"Too late?" a feminine, youthful voice spoke up. "We still have a chance! There is still a time slot in which we can-"

"But the time we have is so minimal! Even if we could manage to get It into place, by the time It was ready, we'd be too late! The boy would win."

"I suppose there is a slim chance," came the defeated murmur of an elderly man. There was silence for but a moment. Then-

"Have you no faith in him? We've relied upon him since he was first created," retorted a clam, knowing young man's voice.

"It is not a he, do you forget?" seethed the first man. "The Creation has no gender, and although It may appear to have one, It does not. You are not to refer to It with one. Need I remind you of that, Audric?"

The knowledgeable man known to his colleagues as Audric smiled. "Do you think it bothers It that you refuse to refer to It without a gender, let alone a name? Calling him 'The Creation' and 'It' all the time must be aggravating, especially when he does officially have a name."

"His name was not given by us, and we are the ones that made him. Whatever he answers to in that ridiculous realm does not apply here," the initial male said.

"Caedmon, surely you do not believe in that?" questioned the single female.

"Ah, Sennett, but I do. We created it; therefore, we name it. No child's play names given to him by humans should affect what we call him- I mean It. Damn, you see? All this talk is getting to me and driving me mad. Ariabod, can we not come to a conclusion on this?"

The old man started at his name, but shook his head. "It would appear not. I personally think The Creation should be sent in now. This time…I don't know." He halted there, feeling his emotions and gut instincts deeps down. "It just feels right to let The Creation go on Its own this time. Do you not feel it, my fellows?"

Audric looked down, slightly turning his head to and fro as he went. "I know what you mean, Ariabod. I feel that as well, and I wish the others would pay attention. But at the same time, something I have never felt before lingers beyond. I do not fear this human boy, but what kind of man- no, child- could have come so far, so easily? He defeats the deterrents set up by the wise elderly elves of long ago like they are childish puzzles worth no more than a glance and a good jest."

"It is the way humans are now," Sennett shot in carefully. "This is why I say we shoot for a chance with The Creation now. If It fails, then we will resort to our final effort. It has, of course, been agreed upon that this is the last generation of the Sisters of Doom, yes?" Unanimous nods all around the table. "Good. Then it is our time to strike!" Her hands accompanied the last word of her speech, pounding forcibly down to the table.

"You two children don't know what you are speaking of," interjected Caedmon, the starter of this argument. "To say that It will work this time around is like saying that It would work the first time- you have no way of knowing! The odds are against our Creation as they always have been. I wish there was a way of doing this peacefully, but this is our last resort. We must launch the Final Weapon before it is too late and we no longer have the chance."

An uproar accompanied Caedmon's speech, everyone trying at once to get their opinions in. Several of the uninvolved members from around the table jutted in as well. Many stood, hoping to be better heard this way; others spoke quietly with the neighbors before voicing their thoughts aloud to the court. No one noticed as the doors at the end of the long, stone hall opened silently.

No one saw the single figure who stood there, stalk-still in the room, whispering so quietly that the still air would have lost were it a competition.

"Still bickering amongst yourselves, I see," It said, coming to a halt at the unoccupied end of the fancy table. Silence came slowly as the members of the council began to acknowledge his presence. They all stared in disbelief, others turning their heads to him and letting their mouths stand agape before they found a way to control their muscles again and snap them shut.

"You're not supposed to-" Sennett started.

"Yes, I know. I'm not supposed to be here. Unfortunately, my rooms were rather drab, and the outer hall to this room wasn't any more entertaining. You called for me- I'm here."

"Thank you, Creation, for coming," Audric replied. "We were just discussing our plans for this troublesome boy. Honestly, I don't think anyone has thought to ask you. Might I have your say on it?"

"_It's _say?" Caedmon sputtered. "Surely you jest? The Creation has no say in what we do, Audric, and to even think of asking It for It's opinion is...well, well, it's idiotic," he finished lamely.

"I think we should be open to new things, Caedmon. Please, Creation, what do you think our plan of action should be for destroying the Sisters of Doom and the human boy, Artemis Fowl?" Ariabod questioned.

The Creation looked on quietly during their conversation and slowly responded. "I feel that you should deploy me, just this one last time. But as you send me out, prepare the Weapon. I will contact you on my travels to inform you of whether or not I am successful or will be, and you may proceed from there. That is what I would do, were you to listen to my opinion." He fell silent, bowing his head and hiding in his shrouds.

"I feel," Ariabod said, "that we should give his plan a try."

"But-" Caedmon cut in."

"Excuse me, I do believe I wasn't quite finished talking. The Creation has never before been asked of what he thinks, and this generation is one we cannot deal with on our own. It may be time to try something new. I may be an old elf, but do not think that makes me unwise or out of touch with reality in any way, manor, or form. This is something we would have never considered, but it does touch upon both sides of this issue we debate so rashly, and does so equally, do you agree?" Nods all about, save for Caedmon who scowled angrily in his seat. "Good. A vote, then, on the Creation's idea. All in favor? Hands please, council members, hands! That's five, seven, eight…eleven for. And against? Three? I suppose you are undecided as always, Obelix? Yes? Right then. The plan is passed. Creation, when you wish to leave for the trip you may.

"Now, as to why we've called you here. This boy, Artemis, no matter what the outcome of this event, the boy must not be sent to the Afterlife. If he is reincarnated, there will be no stopping him in the next generation, I fear. Even if we launch the Final Weapon, you must take the boy from Frond's Castle and bring him to us so we may seal him away for all time. Can you guarantee us that much, Creation?"

It bowed, sweeping It's arm out gracefully to the court.

"I'll do my best." He halted awkwardly.

"Was there something you wished to say?" Audric asked.

"I was hoping to request a- a name. I know it to be stupid, as I'm just a Creation…"

"I do not think it stupid, dear, that you wish to be called something other than The Creation or "It"," Sennett said compassionately. "Have you any idea as to what it would be?"

"Now wait just a moment!" Caedmon flew to his feet, his seat teetering dangerously before settling on all fours. "First we give It leeway to give forth an opinion- now a name? Next I suppose you'll want to make It a member of the Council? Let us not forget, comrades, that It is not one of us! It is not elf, nor human. No blood runs in his veins. The only thing that makes him- It up is magic; pure, clean, good magic. It needs no name. In a few hours, It will most likely be dead!"

"Still, it is something the lad has always wanted. I know this for fact. I will allow it, as I'm the senior councilor here today," Ariabod threw in. "Now, my boy, what will it be?"

"This is ridiculous," Caedmon mumbled as he took his seat in a pout.

"Hashim, sir, from the olden language. It means 'destroyer'. I found it to be fitting, as that is my role in this game."

"A fitting name, lad. I'll accept your request. Hashim, make us proud. Do your job, Hashim the Destroyer, so we may save the Castle of Old from our Final Weapon." Hashim nodded and bowed again.

Caedmon jumped to his feet, face red. "I refuse to It by anything other than what we agreed upon when we created It! To suggest otherwise is idiocy in a pathetic disguise. I hope you fail, Creation, so we may finally do what you've always failed at. The Sisters will fall this generation, or so help me…" he stormed from the room in a fury, pushing past Hashim in his anger. The younger stood his ground, looking Caedmon in his eyes as he corrected his path, unsurprisingly forgot to apologize, and continued on his way.

"Well, his temper has never been under control. I apologize, Hashim." He shook his head.

"It matters not. I take my leave, Council, for I have a long road ahead of me. Good day to you all." Another bow, and he turned about face leaving the dark figures to their important matters. The doors closed swiftly behind him.

**A**s you have seen, I am a major role in this ending. If I do not kill the boy, they will send out the Final Weapon- a bomb, which destroys not only life, but structure. Any souls caught in its wake do not pass to Heaven. A small drop of magic connected to the Weapon immediately sends all souls to the realm of lost souls, Limbo. They are there for eternity where I will rest as well when this ends. Once there, I will ensure they regret their transactions in this realm. Forever.

My sole reasoning to avoid that Weapon is my love. Though the Council does not know it, one of the Sisters has my heart and has since the first generation. So beautiful…my Bringer.

By now, you are no doubt certain of who I am. I've given you many a clue, reader, as to my identity. I am the Mercenary, Hashim the Destroyer, and I am the end of the Sisters of Doom.

**Author's Note:**

Well, off to a nice start, yeah? Hope you all enjoyed, and the meaning I gave for Hashim's name was correct. Of course, I'll say the typical saying...read, review, whatever floats your boat. Thanks for reading, and much Luv to ya'll!

Finelley


	2. Of Love and Hate and Human Nature

Scythe of a Slayer

Disclaimer: See chapter one. I own what I think up. Least I can lay claim to something! (whines piteously) Why? I wanted to be the millionaire for writing about some too-smart-for-his-own-good brat!

Setting: The Ground at Frond's Castle of Old, Artemis Fowl's Private Jet, The Council's Secluded Magic Alcove, and Latvia (middle of the Baltic States).

Chapter 2: Of Love and Hate and Human Nature

**I** decided upon packing my things that it would be best to pay a visit to the boy and his companion, the large man I'd met in the cold region of the human world. A simple transportation spell and I would be where ever they were, assuming they were together. Seeing as the monstrous man was his bodyguard, I was mostly positive they would be close by each other, especially with the Sisters running amuck in their vicinity.

One simple black bag was all I required for my traveling. Once it was full of my clothing and spare weapons, I swiftly scanned the meager room the Council had provided for me since my creation, looking for any items I might have forgotten or that held sentimental value.

It was odd, I will admit, to think anything here would hold any kind of value to it. These people had created me, not birthed me. They didn't truly care for me. All they cared for were the results I could provide. My training when I was first new to this world had been rough, but I was created strong, full-grown, and able to endure. The fighting gear they had provided, neatly folded and placed on the floor in a corner, which consisted of a plain black shirt and slacks that formed to the body and acted as armor- perhaps that held something? No, I shook my head. It only held my pain and suffering at their hands and stood as a reminder of my confinement, something I'd always been looking to escape from.

Over on the stiff wooden chair, a small book. Ancient Magic and How to Wield It, the title read in squiggly golden letters. Sennett had been my magic teacher, had shown me how to harness the raw powers they had provided me with. This was the one book she had personally handed to me and told me I was allowed to keep. Although it would bring back memories of being here, it was also one of the only personal items I owned. It went into the black bag.

Another scan of the room revealed nothing else of value of any sort. I turned and pulled open the heavy maple door. My heart was not at all upset at this departure, assuming that I had one, for I truly didn't know if I did. Every now and then, when I checked for a pulse, there was a thump or two, but it wasn't consistent enough to have kept me alive and was therefore most likely magic running freely in whatever veins I had. Instead of the typical feelings one has of leaving their home (had I ever had a home?), I felt no emotion at leaving this room behind. As I walked out the door, my hand settled firmly on the door knob and did not hesitate to shut it into its frame.

The stone hall I began my journey in was cold with drafts blowing a cool, winter-like wind in and allowing any heat out. That wasn't what caused the hair on my neck to spike up. I came to a halt and waited for the man to show himself. This was his meeting, after all. Caedmon withdrew from the shadows he hid in, around the corner of which I was walking towards. He leaned his body weight against it and peered at me, eyeing me predatorily. My face shroud was on already, hiding the smirk I dared to show. He honestly did hate me and had since my creation. "Well, Hashim,"? he called spitefully, "good luck on your journey. I'm not hoping you'll win or anything, just wondering how well our training has prepared you. Prepared you for failure, that is." He moved closer to me, stalking his way in what he must have thought was a threatening manor. "Oh, and I do think I'll enjoy the moment that our Weapon destroys Frond's Castle when that boy, his lackey, those girls, and most importantly you, will all be sent to Limbo. Isn't there an infatuation betwixt you and one of the Sisters? Was it White Bringer? Maybe she has gotten to your brain, driven you crazy." He pointed to his head, trying to indicate some sort of insanity in a very childish manor. "That is her power, in truth. You are mad with love for her only because she has made you think you are, isn't that right?"

Before I knew what I was doing, I had him up against the wall, a small and highly lethal dagger to his throat. "Don't insult the only person who ever cared for me in this wretched world or what she has given to me. Don't pretend to understand love, for it is something far too complex for your one track, simple and conceited mind. You overstep your boundaries and rights as part of my creator when you do such, and I will not hesitate next time it happens, should there be a next time, to kill you."? I let him drop to the floor and continued my path from the building. This was not the exit I had imagined nor wanted. Anything peaceful would have suited me just fine.

I reached the front doors- enormous metal structures with runes of old inscribed into them- and touched my hand to one of them. A warm sensation encased my palm, one that was uncomfortable your first time, but fascinating any time afterwards. There was a solid click! and the doors cracked open, giving me leeway to use magic freely. That was the one thing I hated most about the Council's humble abode: it restricted the use of any magic while inside. All of my training had been done outside, and I was never able to practice in the privacy of my own little room.

Concentrating on my magic, I teleported to a secure location - a small house in a country whose name always escaped me, although I do remember people referring to it as the 'middle' one of the Baltic states. Here I dropped my bag and immediately set up another instant transportation.

My focus was on the spiritual energy of the Fowl boy and his mammoth sized friend. They were still flying in the odd contraption were I had last popped in on them, but were close the Frond's Castle of Old. Thinking back on that encounter, I rationalized what I had been told to relay to the mismatch group. That I wasn't going to end the Sisters this generation, that I would destroy them and send the boy to limbo. All lies from the Council, meant to throw them off guard. My best bet now was to hope that it had worked and keep playing along with that, for it was my one major advantage at the moment.

I decided to beat them to their destination and, aiming for the magical hotspot that any creature with a drop of supernatural powers could find, I vanished into the rather thin air, already traveling far away to complete my mission.

**T**he flight remained dully silent after the Mercenary's unwelcome arrival and threatening departure. Butler still sat over the girls, eyes drilling hotly over them every three seconds, watching for any hostile movements. The boy, Artemis, was in the unnatural sleep that came from induction of drugs to the body, and the girl Juliet still flew the plane flawlessly. As for the Guardians, Anya and Vesta were discovering what powers the Guardian's truly had. Vesta had, naturally, known about all of her powers, seeing as she was brought up into them. Anya, on the other hand, was clueless save for the magic that all water naiad held for simple protection spells. That didn't mean that Vesta knew of her lacking skills, though, and certainly didn't mean she did what she had out of cruelty or crude humor.

Needless to say, the first time Vesta had sent the other a telepathic message, Anya had visibly been frightened although she managed not to make an audible sound. Her bugging eyes had slowly ticked over and landed their terrified gaze on the firs sprite, who managed to smile a bit despite the other's terror.

_'Calm down, it's just a mental message, telepathy. Haven't you done this before?' _Vesta sent.

A quirked eyebrow met her, a perplexed look following. '_Didn't I tell you I've never known about the Guardians until just a few days ago? Calm down? I am calm! '_

The fiery one of the two winced at her mental volume. '_Can you bring your tone down a bit? Speaking that loudly does bring one an awfully strong migraine. '_

_'You say that like I would know! Fine, I'm toning it down, obviously. Now, what do you want?' _

_'First, I need you to stop staring at me like a monkey just grew out of my head and is still sitting there, making rude gestures at passers-by_.' Anya shook herself to life, realizing exactly what she was doing, and resumed a normal, dull gaze to the fore of the plane. _Great, wonderful. 'That's perfect. What I wanted to talk to you about, and the reason we're talking privately, is the third Guardian. They've said little of her, Artemis and the Sisters I mean. You don't suppose shes dead?'_

_'No, I think not. We three are particularly difficult to murder, aren't we?' _Anya seemed to have regained her composure, her face back to a stone mask with a hint of mental absence. '_She is most likely planning something, as are we. I- oh, wait! That's it! If we can communicate via brainwaves, can't she, and we to her? Does distance matter?'_

Vesta the fire spirit had to stop herself from gaping at the other Guardian. So little time she had been exposed to this magic, and already she thought with it. No one had tried her knowledge in such a manor in quite some time. Then again, she had never been the social one in her tribe. '_No, distance doesn't usually matter, at least not for our connections. If it were just another fairy, maybe there would be some challenge in it. Do you really think she's planning?'_

_'Perhaps, but I know one way to ask her and find out.' _A devious grin splayed across her features as she still looked blandly forward, not acknowledging her twin Guardian. Just like that, said grin vanished, gone more swiftly than the raw breezes of winter's harsh, bony fingers.

_'You jest.'_

_'I don't. I am entirely serious. Contact her.'_

_'Why don't you?'_

_'I don't know how, lest we forget I've just discovered this power, thanks to you. Stop being a sprite-ling and send out the call.'_

_'Fine_.' Vesta rolled her head, dissipating her anger as quickly as her body would allow_. 'But you must talk to her.'_

_'Wait, what? Why do I have to_?' she whined.

_'You'll find out soon enough. If your clan had taught you properly, you'd know what's different about the earth Guardian of this generation. Good luck.'_ She broke the mental connection (and was somehow sure that Anya was glaring poison daggers at her, even if her eyes were still zoned out and faced away) and began to search around for the aura of the third Guardian.

**A** vein began to bulge in Adamina's neck. What part of no weren't they getting?

The vicious Guardian was seated in a the branches of an older oak tree just outside of Frond's Castle. It was wonderfully relaxing there, with the soft winds blowing what way they wished. That, unfortunately, was ruined by some damned incessant nagging mental messenger who would not take no for an answer. Seemingly, that was. Something told Adamina that was about to change.

_'Who ever you are, cease your unwarranted pickings at me while you still have a brain to think with. Any more agitation from your part, and you shall soon know the true meaning of eternal pain without release. Do not take my word lightly, cretin. I am a reincarnate of a creature of old, not one to fool with gaily.'_

_'Spare me that speech, please. I'm just the connection. The other with me wishes to talk to you. Also, we are reincarnation of old as well. At least, I am. Her mother is the only one to never have been killed, though the spirit is shared by them. Anyway, we are fellow Guardians, as you would know if you hadn't blocked me for the last seven minutes.'_

_'You failed to identify yourself. I had every right to block you, girl.'_

_'And you failed to give me the chance for identification, sprite. Being more sociable to the others like you may just aid you someday. As for me, I'm out of this. The water Guardian Anya Vistou wishes to speak with you.'_

She didn't have a moment to protest this whole fiasco. The sagacious voice of another fairy was breaking into her mental link. _'Hello there, I'm Anya, Guardian of the Sisters of Doom. I have yet to gain your name, but do know you to be a fairy of like origins. The fire spirit Vesta Marcellus and I wish to speak of you about-' _

_'The Sisters, I know. You two are cutting it dangerously close with your timing of choice. I am known by the name Adamina Brandt, obviously I am the remaining Guardian, derived from earth. Whatever plans you think you have devised, keep them for yourselves. I am not a group player, to use a human term, and have my own agenda to follow. I will demolish the Sisters by myself, whether you consent or not does not matter. The circle will be broken this time around and there is nothing you can do to stop me.'_

_'We didn't intend to stop you. Vesta and I agreed-'_

_'To an extent, we agreed_,' the first voice cut in. Someone had been eavesdropping.

_'Yes, well, we agreed to an extent that the Sisters must be dealt with. Once Vesta is satisfied that her charge no longer wishes to live, we will both fully be ready to aid in any plan you have for halting them.'_

_'A pleasant though, but I've already said I don't wish for your help. Besides that, if you are not fully committed to it now, then you won't be in the next day. I have no need of middle standings. You are either with me or on the wrong side. There is nothing more to say, Guardian, save for a warning. Watch your back, Sisters of magic. The Dark One draws near.'_ With that, Adamina effectively broke off their mental attachment and returned to her silentious woodlands. Only here could you perchance the beginning of a smile on the predatory face of the timberland Guardian, but such was the way of life with a soul withering from its time on the planet.

Old souls don't often lack the feeling of peace when the one thing that has bound them for uncounted centuries is headed straight at them. Only when they have truly set themselves free of all constrictions will they find their way to the After Life.

**Author's Note: **

So, it took me a month or two to write out the second chapter. What can I say? Sorry I delayed? Well, placed as a statement rather than a question, sorry I delayed. Summer has this annoying pull on you that makes you, oh I don't know, lazy? Uninspired? Whatever it is that happens, I have the second chapter out and have attempted to play in some things that may have caused confusion along the way.

I recently came across a thought that has occurred once or twice to me already, but seeing as it has come on its own accord every time, I'm finally giving it a thought. What were those thoughts, huh? Well, you see, as I'm writing about the Sisters, I realize I spent far more time on Deidra and the Amulet of Quietus than I have for the other two combined. So, I thought, what if I came back and did a kind of prequel to the Sisters? Maybe the original set of Sisters? Switch around point of view in accordance with who's up to what, where, and why? Tell me what you think about that idea, e-mail or reviews are fine.

As always, thank you all so very much for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed. Any suggestions, thoughts, or flames - the latter is not so much appreciated, but still considered- are welcome in form of e-mail or review. You pick, it doesn't matter. Just let me know what you thought of it. Please?

Love you all till death do us part-never mind, you don't want to know where that was going.

Love you all!

finelley


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